


Treats

by Khaleesi_of_Lannisport



Series: Pennywise x Fem!Reader [6]
Category: IT (2017), IT (2019), IT - Stephen King, IT-Chapter 2, Stephen King - Fandom
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Flesh eating, Forced Pregnancy, NSFW, Pregnant Sex, Shameless Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 05:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaleesi_of_Lannisport/pseuds/Khaleesi_of_Lannisport
Summary: February 1990.This is the conclusion to my Fem!Reader x Pennywise series, as promised back in 2017's 'Sweetness.'You were left a parting-gift by Derry's infamous child-eating clown. The deal you struck in the summer of 1989 has come to the end. Now, you're left to deal with the consequences of your actions. Was it all worth it?





	Treats

Treats

_February 14th 1990_

You sit on the hospital bed in your ratty hospital gown, a sheen of sweat coats your body, trembling either from a raging fever or fear, perhaps both. Your pregnancy has been difficult and seems to only get worse with each passing day. Food no longer stays down and you find yourself vomiting at almost every chance. You don’t even have the energy to sit up or stand for longer than a few minutes. Thankfully, Derry’s local chapter of the teachers’ union fought furiously for you to take your maternity leave now at the risk of losing the child. They challenged the city on your behalf the notion to the district’s superintendent who calls himself ‘pro-life’ but is willing to let a new mother’s child die in the womb. Such a critical blow would do him harm in the up-coming elections in Derry.

Now on official paid leave, you focus on trying to stay healthy for the sake of your unborn child-fathered by a child-eating monster whom you made a deal with last summer. Never in your forty-one years had you thought your life would come to this. 

The doctor enters the room and begins his examination. He takes your temperature (nearing a fever at 99.7F), checks your blood pressure, flashes a light in your eyes, and measures your increasing heart rate.

“Ms. N/A, this is a very high-risk pregnancy, especially for women of a certain age.” 

That last part bit hard into your mind. _Certain age._ Hmphf! He meant you were too old to be having your first child. Nevertheless, you swallow it. 

“I’m well aware, doctor. I have been following your instructions to the letter; I’ve taken time off from work and I’m mostly confined to my bed as you ordered.”

“And yet, you drove yourself here and refused a wheelchair by my nurses,” he retorts.

You shift your eyes away in embarrassment. You hate feeling pitied, the look of judgment from the nurses and even your own doctor. Single mother. An old whore you got herself knocked up. Such a disgrace. 

“Doctor, please understand I can walk and drive myself. I have no one.”

He only looks more judgmental towards you, lectures you on how you should lean on others, especially now that you’re going to be a mother. You agree, if only to shut him up. The doctor writes a prescription to help alleviate your nausea and gives you a final warning: “Take it easy these next few months.”

You nod, taking the piece of paper from him and placing it in your pocketbook for safe keeping. You dress, collect yourself and walk meagerly to your car. All you want is to crawl back into bed and cry yourself to sleep. The budding bulge of your pregnancy has barely begun, and you feel the weight of this pregnancy wearing you down physically and emotionally.  
All your thoughts turn to the child’s father, Pennywise. He left you alone to carry his child as he slumbered for the next twenty-seven years, possibly thirty if he’s tired enough. You did the math, realizing you’d be in your seventies before he sees you again. The thought of it made you even angrier.

Pennywise abandoned you after Christmas. No formal good-bye. Just gone, as if he never existed.

Defenseless, to raise this monstrous child, alone. 

As you drive through the main street you could see the decorations for Valentine’s Day, heart-shape cut-outs hanging from streetlamps, advertisements for all sorts of treats, chocolates, and stuffed bears. Your school is hosting its ‘Sweethearts Dance’ for the middle and high school students tonight. Happy couples are busy making plans for tonight’s festivities, maybe going out to a romantic dinner, or seeing a movie. Your heart sank with loneliness and a twang of jealous grew into almost hatred. 

You enter your home defeated, walking up the stairs carefully, not to agitate your stomach further. Only then did you realize you forgot to fulfill the prescription at the pharmacy. And in that moment...

_Fuck!_ A wave of nausea began to bellow from within as you race towards the toilet, unloading the contents of your stomach into the bowl. Tears begin to well up as you lift your head, hands gripping the sides of the bowl tightly as you release a loud sob. You flush the contents down quickly. You let go your grip from the toilet bowl and try to raise yourself from the floor, only to find yourself so weak you cannot get up. You lean back against the wall of your bathtub to catch your breath. You close your eyes, remembering those cheeky parenting articles co-workers forced upon you to read, taking in deep breaths from your nose and exhaling through your mouth. In that moment you swore you can hear the jingling of bells.  
A soft gloved hand strokes the back of your head, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin; suddenly you can smell cotton candy, hot dogs, and buttered popcorn. The sounds of the fairgrounds fill the room, laughing and screaming children on rides, carnies calling out winners, and the giggling of a clown.  
The soft gloved hands continue to pet and stroke your hair.

“Do you feel better, teach?” he breathes in your ear. His voice is soothing and velvety. You open your eyes at the realization that this was not a dream. He is here with you. 

“Yes, Pennywise, I do.” 

You feel his large presence behind you as he lifts you up by your reaching under your arms. You turn to face him, longing to see those glowing eyes reflect your own. There he stands before you after months of abandonment; his costume a little worse for wear, stained and smelling of the sewers below. You want to scream at him, to accuse him of leaving you, but all that escapes is the desire to hug him. He returns your embrace as you nestle your head against his ruffled costume. Pennywise withdraws from you and wipes away your tears from your cheeks with his thumb. He then boops your nose causing you to giggle. 

“Today is a special day, teach! I have a surprise for you,” he says shining a buck-toothed grin.

“Please tell me its something for this vomiting to stop.”

His grin grows wider, stretching across his face, “Oh it is!” 

Pennywise pulls out a heart shaped box from behind him, one that is clearly meant to hold candies or chocolates.

“I got you a treat!” his body jiggles the bells. He hands it to you, “Open it, open it, open it!” His enthusiasm is that of a child and it endears you greatly. 

Wordless, you undo the wrapping from the box, opening it and feeling disappointed, to find raw meats in the tiny paper wrappings. 

“What is this?” you ask, trying your best to hide your disgust. 

“It’s a treat for you and the baby. Taste it!” He plucks one from the box, “Open wide for the airplane!” He makes mocking airplane sounds to encourage you to open up your mouth.  
“Here it comes in for a landing,” Pennywise giggles with his fingers holding the piece before you, and you oblige him, opening your mouth for the raw meat. It lands on your tongue, soft, squishy and lukewarm. You’re reluctant to chew but seeing his eyes light up persuades you to do it.

You swallow the piece and find it soothes your nausea. A gasp escapes your mouth at this realization.

Pennywise’s face is satisfied and beaming with delight. “You see? I knew my treats would work. Now,” he quickly plucks another one, “you need your strength. For the baby.”

You eat another bite of the raw meat, feeling the bloody juices trickle off the sides of your lips. You lick them off the corner of your mouth greedily. So delicious! Pennywise watches you intently and saliva begins to drip from his mouth. The meat settles your stomach and even seems to calm the growing fear you’ve had since December.

“Thank you, Pennywise,” you say finally. You return the nose boop causing him to jingle. You place the box of the remaining raw meat-treats on sink. Pennywise’s eyes follow your movements before settling on your stomach.

He clasps your waist to bring you closer to him. “I don’t want you to be lonely, ever, N/A.”

Pennywise nuzzles against your cheek and begins to kiss down your neck, soft and wet kisses. You’ve longed for his touch again, that feeling of his red-painted lips pressing against your flesh, his fangled teeth sinking into you. You hope he takes a bite leaving you another scar, another token of his affections. As ridiculous as it sounds, you want more stitches, more scars, more bruises as mementos, something to stare at in the mirror as the reflection changes in the years to come.

Pennywise’s tongue traces down your collarbone as his hands begin to undo your blouse. 

You moan and writhe against him as he shifts behind you, one hand gripping your left breast and his other hand fumbling down your crotch, finding your slit. You release another moan as squeezes your tender breasts, his warm tongue flicking your earlobe before he gently nibbles it. Pregnancy has changed your body in more ways than one. All your senses were dialing up and Pennywise knows all your sensitive spots. Pennywise teases your nipples softly until they've become beaded, mewling in response but you want more. You grow impatient and force his hand down your panties further until they reach your wetness.

“Ohoho! Naughty, naughty teacher, couldn’t wait!” Pennywise growls. You can feel his growing bulge against your ass. You want him, now. His fingers dance inside your cunt, slipping in and out. Your body rocks back and forth, moving with him as he continues to finger fuck you, harder and with more focus. His tongue finds its way to your open mouth and locks with yours. You moan into his mouth, his tongue dominating yours, conquering your cries until you break away. Your eyes turn to the mirror in front you, watching the display of your love making with this hellish sewer creature. 

“You like what you see, teach?” Pennywise teases into your ear. Something about this voyeuristic fucking made your climax even stronger as you feel his fingers work their magic on your delicate clit. A final grunt escapes your throat as your body twitches in response to climaxing. Satisfied your body begins to slump against him, but Pennywise isn’t done.

He steadies you with one hand wrapping around waist as he lowers his pantaloons. His monstrous cock presses against your ass cheeks and you release a soft mewl. You slide the rest of your pants along with your soaking undies down to the floor. You grip the sink tightly as he enters you from behind. Although, you’d think your cunt would be used to his size, it always takes you by surprise whenever he enters you. Pennywise begins to slowly ride into your swollen cunt, still holding tight to your waist and meeting your eyes in the bathroom mirror. A devilishly grin spread across his face as his thrusts become harder and harder. Your stomach pressing against the edge of the sink as he pushes further in. You didn’t want to agitate the growing baby, causing another wave of nausea, but thankfully those treats have been working their magic. No sickness. You can enjoy yourself. 

Pennywise’s eyes roll back as he thrusts harder into you, causing you to scream instead of mewl. Finally, he finishes inside of you, feeling his sticky seed slip down your thighs. He releases you slowly so you can find your footing and your breath. 

The face staring back at you in the mirror has changed so much since last summer when you first met the clown Pennywise. There were less murders thanks to your sacrifice you told yourself, night after night. Whenever you had to enter the ER for stitches, you’d talk yourself up about what a hero you were to the town of Derry. But no one would ever know your sacrifices. Even with a new baby, you’ll still be alone. 

You fight the urge to cry as best as you can, “Don’t leave me again, Pennywise. Please don’t leave me.”

Your faces falls into his chest, you feel so pathetic, guilty, and disgusted with yourself all at once. Here you are always crying into the arms of this flesh-devouring monstrous clown. Pennywise coos against you, "There, there. All will be well."  
Relief settles into your heart at hearing those words. Your eyes follow to the box of treats and you notice a charm bracelet, one clearly made for a small child’s wrist on the bottom of one of the pieces of paper. Horror grows upon your face at the realization, Pennywise’s laughter grows louder, filling the room. You turn, staring directly into Pennywise’s glowing orange-red eyes and fangled smile. Child’s flesh. He gave you a child’s flesh and you enjoyed it. You want to vomit, to release the revulsion you feel towards yourself. But you can’t. The baby needs its strength and so do you. 

**END**

_Epilogue_

Mike had convinced Bill to return to his home above the library. He needed to share his discoveries about Pennywise with Bill and the other Losers from the last twenty-seven years.  
“What is it that you need to show me so urgently?” Bill said. He didn’t want to stay in Derry longer than he needed to and these memories flooding back to him were causing a deep-seated fear he couldn’t shake.

Mike took a deep breath, holding a file in his hands, trembling at the thought of what he knew.

“Do you remember a teacher at your middle school, Ms. N/A?” Mike asked.

“Vaguely, I mean there’s a lot I’ve forgotten over the years, you know? Why?”

Mike opened the file and handed a document to Bill. “You see this? She had a baby in the summer of 1990 and died in childbirth.”

Bill’s eyes scanned the report, words popping out: _Stillborn. Deformities. Severe blood loss. Grotesque fetus._

“W-w-what does any of this mean?” Bill stammered out. 

“I think, she conceived a child from Pennywise, and ultimately it killed her.”

Bill’s face expressed horror and shock. “What are you talking ab-b-bout? That’s f-f-ucking crazy, Mike!” 

Bill’s eyes were wide with disbelief. How could anyone ever think to be sexual with IT?

“Don’t you remember her scars, her bruises after that summer? She made a deal with It and in return, we were spared. She sacrificed herself for the town of Derry, Bill. Don’t you see that?” Mike’s voice was firm, but he knew the others might have difficulty in believing him. He needed to convince Bill first, then the others would fall in line together. 

He showed Bill her yearbook picture from the year before, 1988, and then 1989, and how different the two women in the pictures were. The first looked youthful and full of joy with hardly any blemishes, the second was beaten down with heavy makeup applied to hide her bruises and scars. In the background, a faint silhouette of a clown stood behind her.

Mike visited her tombstone earlier than day to see it for himself. There he found a dozen red balloons tied to it. 

(I didn’t like the ending. – Stephen King)

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is kids, just as promised! FYI: I graduated back in December 2017.  
I did think of this ending as a final 'nod' to Stephen King's cameo in the film, a constant reminder of 'I hated the ending' that kept popping up.  
Its been a fantastic ride and I'll continue to write other monstrous smut.  
See you all around! 
> 
> xx Gabby


End file.
